'Nduja with Seafood | All Things Sicilian and more

I’ve long been familiar with caciocavallo cheese and ’nduja, but I always enjoy discovering new things about food and produce.

Being Italian I enjoy the endless journey through traditions, family stories, unique regions and small producers who put their heart into every ingredient. Researching Italian food is discovering a world inside every dish.

Recently, I visited a small restaurant that focuses on Southern Italian cuisine and had two dishes that sparked my curiosity.

The first was a caciocavallo that came from Puglia and not Sicily, as I was expecting. (Below is a photo of the classic shape of caciocavallo)

The second was ’nduja, Calabria’s famously spicy, spreadable salume (small good). It was served warm in a small terracotta warmer, ready for dipping with some house-made warm focaccia. I’d never seen it served this way. At home, I tend to slice it like salame and serve it with some quality bread, in a much more rustic manner.

I find it fascinating how produce reflects the unique identity of each region. It’s all thanks to the geography, animal husbandry, and traditional techniques that shape what we grow and eat. A cheese is the flavour of the land, the animals that graze there, and the those that made it. The caciocavallo, from Southern Italy, has maintained its authenticity despite being mass-produced. Its Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) classification safeguards its unique characteristics.

The ‘nduja, which was traditionally made by hand after a pig was slaughtered, is now mass-produced, but traditional recipes remain largely unchanged.

Naturally, I had questions to ask at the restaurant. Fortunately, a passionate, food-loving waiter from Messina was happy to share his knowledge. What I love most about Italians is how even the simplest ingredients and recipes carry the weight of local pride. Thanks to his enthusiasm, I left with a deeper appreciation for these two iconic Southern Italian specialties and a strong urge to verify everything he told me.

Sometimes all it takes is a chatty, informative waiter to turn a good meal into an even better culinary experience. The list of Italian wines was also very good and again this waiter was happy to share his knowledge.

Caciocavallo

Caciocavallo is produced across several Southern Italian regions: Sicily, Basilicata, Calabria, Campania, Molise, and Puglia. However, I’ve always associated this cheese with Sicily, especially as it is made in Ragusa.

My paternal family roots are in Ragusa (photo above), so over the years I have visited Sicily many times. I developed a strong sense of pride around Caciocavallo Ragusano . This is made from the milk of Modica cows (Modica is a city close to Ragusa) that graze the wild pastures of the Iblei plateau. The cheese is rich and earthy, due to the wild herbs in the cows’ diet. My relatives led me to believe that this was the best caciocavallo, with all others being somewhat inferior. And I believed them.

I have eaten cheese produced by families in the region of Ragusa and, like my relatives, I appreciate caciocavallo very much. The caciocavallo cheeses The cheeses are the classic gourd or teardrop shape and are hung in pairs over a wooden beam (“cacio a cavallo” means “cheese on horseback”). It is appreciated as an aged cheese, but also when relatively fresh.

At the restaurant, I was offered Caciocavallo Podolico from Puglia. This local cheese is made from the milk of Podolica cows, a breed raised in southern Italy. Unlike cheese from Ragusa, Caciocavallo Podolico is aged for up to 36 months in natural caves. The cows feed on wild, aromatic herbs in a different terroir, giving the cheese a bold, intense flavour.

The restaurant served it pan-fried, warm, with a drizzle of honey and chilli flakes. The honey reminded me of how I’ve eaten pecorino in Liguria, not warmed.

Eating the caciocavallo from Puglia broadened my horizons beyond the exclusive patriotism for Ragusa-produced caciocavallo.

’Nduja

’Nduja is a soft, fermented, pork Calabrian salume made with about 30% chili peppers. Cured in natural casings, it remains spreadable because of the high fat content and fermentation.

Over the years, I have incorporated ‘nduja into various dishes and sauces, and have also enjoyed it sliced and served with bread, but I had never encountered it served warm. At the restaurant, it was presented in a unique warmer equipped with a small flame, ensuring a molten state and an opportunity to be scooped up with bread. This presentation is known as ‘scalda ‘nduja‘.

Here are a couple of ideas for enjoying these ingredients at home:

Pan-fried Caciocavallo: pan fry in very little oil thick slices until golden, then drizzle with some quality honey and a sprinkle of chilli flakes. Look for DOP or regional varieties at specialty Italian shops.

Warm ’Nduja: Gently heat a slice in a ramekin in the microwave or small pan and serve with warm bread for dipping.. The restaurant served it with focaccia.

I’ve written other posts, especially about ‘nduja that may stimulate more adventures in the kitchen:

‘NDUJA

NDUJA, a spreadable and spicy pork salame from Calabria

NDUJA, was considered peasant food in Calabria

PASTA with ‘NDUJA, CIME DI RAPA and PORK SAUSAGES

NDUJA with SQUID, very simple

NDUJA and CALAMARI as a pasta sauce

NDUJA, SQUID, VONGOLE AND PAN GRATTATO with Spaghetti

CACIOCAVALLO and similar cheese

SICILIAN CHEESE MAKING. A VISIT TO A MASSARO (farmer-cheese maker) IN RAGUSA. Formaggio argentiera

There are many recipes that include Caciocavallo as an ingredient – use the search button on my blog.

Below, photo of Ragusa.

I am not Calabrese, and not being Calabrese means that I only discovered ’nduja late in life, as it was very much a regional and local food. I may have been late, but I did discover ’nduja much earlier than those living in Australia, who are now celebrating its use in a big way. Better late than never, because ’nduja is a fabulous salume (smallgood).

Featured photo is Tropea, Calabria.

So what is ’nduja?

We can thank Richard Cornish for his full-flavoured description of it in his Brain Food column in The Age on 10 November: A fermented sausage, originally from Calabria in Italy, that has a texture like sticky pate and a spicy kick on it like an angry mule. Pronounced en-doo-ya, it is a mixture of pork fat (up to 70 per cent), pork, salt, spices, culture and chilli peppers, which are ground together until smooth, wet, unctuous and deep red. It is stuffed into large-sized natural animal skins and slowly fermented and air-dried. The lactic acid bacteria in the culture ferments the sugars in the mix, making the ’nduja acidic enough to keep it safe from bad bugs. The name is Calabrian slang and is said to derive from the word for the smoked French sausage andouille.

Is it nduja or ’nduja? You will find that in certain references the spelling will be without an apostrophe.

The apostrophe before the nd (as in ’nduja), does not appear in the Italian language and I spent some time looking for the why it is spelt that way. It appears that in Calabrese, nd is proceeded by an apostrophe. Think of ‘Ndrangheta, as the mafia is referred to in Calabria, and ‘ndrina, the different families or clans, usually made up of blood relatives that are part of the ‘Ndrangheta.

Like most Calabresi, I usually spread ’nduja on fresh bread (like pâté) or I have used it as an ingredient in pasta sauces – it can fire up a tame ragù (a meat-based tomato sauce). I have also added ’nduja to sautéed cime di rape and Italian pork sausages, and to squid or octopus for a pasta sauce or on their own to be mopped up with bread.

I first encountered this spicy, spreadable sausage about forty years ago in the home of a Calabrese family who used to slaughter a pig and make smallgoods. They covered all of the smallgoods with chili. To their taste, food without chilli seemed flavourless, but also that the coating of chilli acts as a barrier, repelling flies (and bad bugs as Richard says) and is therefore a powerful and natural preservative. It’s the chili that gives this soft spreadable ’nduja salame its distinctive red colour.

Years later (about 23 years ago), I had some ‘nduja in the Sila mountains in Calabria, but I did not know then, that this peasant food product was to become the taste-sensation outside of Calabria that it is now.

My addition of ’nduja to seafood came much later in my cooking after I tasted a pasta dish of squid and fried breadcrumbs spiced with ’nduja, in a restaurant in Marin County, in California in the northwestern part of the San Francisco Bay Area of the U.S). Years later, I had a similar dish in a London restaurant. Both blew me away.

Probably the first dish I tasted with ’nduja in a Melbourne restaurant (Baby octopus with ’nduja) was at Tipo 00 when it first opened and later at Osteria Ilaria.

Originally, ’nduja was considered peasant food. It was first made by contadini (farmers/ workers on the land) who raised and butchered pigs and being poor, would sell the prime cuts of pork to upper-class families who could afford them. as is the way of the frugal, offal, excess fat, and off- cuts of meat were blended together, seasoned intensely with chilli, stuffed in a casing and transformed into a soft salame that tasted good and did not spoil easily.

These days ’nduja is probably made with better fats and cuts of meat and with its popularity, the price has also risen. ’Nduja originated in the Vibo Valentia province in Calabria, and much of it still comes from the town of Spilinga but it is now showing up as an ingredient all over Italy and in many restaurants in UK, US and in Australia – imparting a chilli kick on pizza, in pasta dishes, seafood dishes, burgers and even with Burrata; I would have thought that fresh cheeses are far too delicate to go with the strongly flavoured and spicy ’nduja. However each to their own. ’Nduja is no longer just found in specialist supermarkets and specialty butchers, but also in some fairly ordinary supermarkets. I have liked some varieties much more than others, so it is worth experimenting.

For those who like chillies, recipes that include ’nduja on my blog:

‘NDUJA, a spreadable and spicy pork salame from Calabria

PASTA with ‘NDUJA, CIME DI RAPA and PORK SAUSAGES

‘NDUJA with SQUID, very simple

‘NDUJA and CALAMARI as a pasta sauce

‘NDUJA, SQUID, VONGOLE AND PAN GRATTATO with Spaghetti